


Transmarinus

by iiArgentum



Series: Alternate Universes [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Human!Sherlock, John-centric, M/M, One-Shot, Siren!John, There's uh Latin in it, Would be a slow-burn if continued, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiArgentum/pseuds/iiArgentum
Summary: Sirens swim aimlessly in the ocean until they find a human who's love had been rejected to take their place. When they do, they are given another chance at life, taking their victim's place in the human world.John couldn't tell how long he had been in the ocean. But when he saw the tall figure on the shore, obviously heart-broken and depressed, something primal awakened in him telling him this was his chance, his shot at having it all again. So he lured him into the water, grasped his hand; and turned into a human once more. But, it turns out, things did not go exactly to plan and he's now stuck with a heart-broken human figuring out why the gods forsaken him like this.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Alternate Universes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1445545
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Transmarinus

**Author's Note:**

> Noone to brit-pick this? Bam, Americanized!Johnlock  
Noone to beta this? Bam, Grammarly
> 
> So please, enjoy this terribly written one-shot that came into me in one night.

With a sigh, the young man sat himself down onto the shore. He watched the quiet lap of waves at the sand. He ran a hand over the sand, the fine crystals sticking to his palm. He brushed some off, when something caught his eye. A flash of tan in the ocean. It looked surprisingly like skin, specifically a hand. He tilted his head, focusing on where it had appeared.

He stared at the spot, thinking of possible explanations. So far he had seven. Could it have been someone who attempted to drown themselves? It was not uncommon in this small coastal town where nothing ever happened. The man had once contemplated it himself, if he was being honest. He squinted, staring at the spot. He wanted to believe it was a fish or some other aquatic creature, but the return of the hand above the waves proved otherwise.

With a sigh, Sherlock Holmes lifted himself up and removed his shoes and socks, unbuttoned and took off his shirt. He jumped into the water as gracefully as the choppy waves allowed. He saw the form of a body, the hand raised outward towards him. He could barely make out anything past the shape of a person, because of the sting of salt in his eyes and the white foam of the water around him.

His legs burning, he stretched out his arm, making contact with the hand, which tightly grasped his. Too tightly for someone who had been underwater for so long. Before he knew it though, he was being pulled under the water, the air sucked out of his lungs as water rushed to fill the space above him.

//

The former siren could not believe his luck. He hadn't known how long he had been aimlessly swimming there. But when he saw the figure sitting on the beach, he knew that was his chance. Something primal awoke in him telling him this was how he would get a life back. It was how he had gotten here, and this was how he would get out.

A life for a life.

All because of a broken heart.

//

Sherlock could feel his mind dimming, the constant buzz slowing. The water around him got darker and darker.

How peaceful, He thought apathetically.

//

John stumbled onto the shore, and he couldn't help the smile spreading on his lips. He took in the scene of land, people, animals, all of it again. He kneeled in the sand and closed his eyes, a ragged breath escaping from his lips. His peace was abruptly interrupted, though, as his ears picked up a shout. He turned around to face the waves again.

_No._

//

Sherlock could feel the last of air leaving his lungs. He became frantic as they started to burn. Something seemed to be keeping him down, but there was nothing touching him or near him- Yet he still felt an urge to fight it off; he padded through the water until he was finally able to break the surface and gasped for air. Unfortunately, this did nothing to stop the sensation of being pulled back under. Through salt-stung eyes, he spotted another figure on the beach, kneeling where he had once been sitting. Though he was not facing Sherlock, he called out a cry of help before he was sucked backed under.

//

John stood up, nearing the water. The same head of wet curls and pale skin that had first caught his eye was struggled to stay above the waterline.

"No fucking way," He breathed, jogging back into the water and swimming towards the flailing arms.

"Hey, hey, calm down..." He coaxed, holding his arms out in a sign of peace as what seemed like a younger man struggled to stay afloat. Pleading eyes the color of a cloudy afternoon sky met the former siren's before he was pulled back under. "What is going on," He muttered before inhaling and diving below the foamy waves again. He kicked through the thickness, the other man seemingly sinking much faster than should be possible. He stretched out that a pale hand desperately.

Suddenly, John realized, the roles were reversed. What was he doing? Saving him would mean he would turn back into a siren. But the man still had human legs and obviously couldn't breathe underwater...

Can't just let him die, I suppose, He thought grimly.

Stretching out and clasping his forearm, he tugged his surprisingly light body into his arms and carried him back onto shore. Gingerly dropping his form onto the sand, he flopped down next to him. The other man coughed up water, the action racking through his body as John watched with horror and helplessness. He groaned, head falling back into the sand as his breathing slowly returned to a normal rhythm. Watching his peaceful face, John started to rethink everything that had happened in the past two minutes. Sirens weren't supposed to interact with their victims, much less save them from drowning. But the victims shouldn't drown in the first place, they _should_ turn take the place of another siren, transforming into one of the aquatic creatures. 

This entire situation was throwing John off. Guessing now was as good as any a time, he started to make his escape. He silently stood up and slowly backed up, keeping his eyes on the other man to ensure he would live, though.

Unfortunately, the man noticed John's retreating form and let out a yelp, "Where are your clothes?" He exclaimed.

It took John a moment to process what he was saying. "My-" He looked down, "Ah." Clothes, that's what he needed. Maybe he had grown too used to being a siren after all this time.

"Oh god," The other man sighed, rolling over so his back was facing John.

"Hey, I just saved your life," John snapped.

"And for that, I am forever grateful," The lying form snapped right back, rolling his shoulders, "And might I remind you it was I who rescued you first."

"Speaking of, Why aren't you a siren, now?"

The other man turned around, "A what?" He asked narrowing his eyes but quickly averting him because, once again, no clothes-

"A siren!" John exclaimed, starting to pace while closing and opening and closing his fists. He could feel the other man's eyes on him and it bothered him. He couldn't think properly and his head hurt. Lack of water?

"I don't know," The other said carefully, brows furrowing slightly. "Here," He said, pulling out a large hoodie from his bag. John caught it right before it his the wet sand around his bare feet. "If anything, I recommend you come with me until we can figure this out."

Pulling the too big piece of clothing on, John tried to ease himself. The man, who John now took the time to get a could look at, was scanning the roads around them. The beach was below a rocky ledge on which was a road on the edge of a small beach town. The sun was starting to set, and the town was starting to adopt an eerily silent vibe.

"My name's Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes," The young man said in a voice that seemed to deep to match his features. He shakily stood up, brushing the sand off his trousers and button-up. John couldn't help but feel awkward in a way as his own calloused hand shook his slender hand.

"John," He responded warily.

"Awfully normal name for a so-called siren," Sherlock said dryly.

"I wasn't always one."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but said no more. John sighed and looked out at the sea.

"O me miserum," He mumbled to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Won't be continued unless said otherwise.


End file.
